A Girl's Guide to Being Jilted | ✓

09 | In Which Pancakes Are Involved

“It’s fine,” I cleared my throat and my eyes. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, Dee. I would’ve come down to check on you but I’m headed out of town to pick up a few parts for your mom’s car.”

“I said I’m fine, Matty,” I cleaned my nose.

I heard him sigh. “I’m worried about you. Ever since you popped up back in town you’ve been, I don’t know, more withdrawn? More cagey about your life than the Denise I used to know. It’s almost like you’re carrying something heavy and the worst part is you seem to think you have to carry this thing on your own. That’s not true, Dee, talk to me, let me help.”

Matty’s words felt like lead bullets as they reached my ear.

They struck a chord with me mostly because it was true but also because there was nothing I could do about that. Whether I talked about it or not, the pain was not going away. It was never going away.

“Thanks Matty, but I mean it. I’m fine.”

“Alright then, it’s ok if you won’t talk to me. I get it. But you need to talk to someone. I hate to leave like this but I’m driving and a toll booth is coming up. Will you be alright?”

I chuckled. “I’ll be fine.” I sensed he was about to say something so I spoke first. “Honestly if you make me say that word again I will reach into this phone and decapitate you.”

A car honk covered Matty’s throaty laugh. “Alright then, I’ll see you soon.”

The call ended and I stared at my phone screen. The notification glared back at me and I found that I was still no closer to an answer for my conundrum.

Deciding that being cooped up in my childhood bedroom was no help I took a shower and concluded on a walk into town to clear my head.

After throwing on a red flannel shirt over a black tank top and jean shorts, I put my earbuds in and slid into my beloved pair of orange Converses.

It was safe to say that I was obsessed with those brand of shoes. When me and Matty were younger we’d collect every single pair we could find, a tradition I was still carrying on.

The chill air and the soothing melody of jazz made me feel better as I walked down my street, no particular destination in mind.

Aside the house I grew up in there were only a handful of other places that I felt comfortable staying in Ernest because just like every other town, ours wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Just because it was small didn’t mean there wasn’t a dangerous side to it.

The clearing in the woods and the lake were one of them, Pete’s Pizza and Em’s house were also among but top of the list would have to be Matty’s house and Felix Fixes.

I spent half my childhood in both Matty’s house and his dad’s garage. I was in either place so long that I eventually picked up Spanish, the second language in the Ramiro household. It gave thirteen-year-old me such pride to be labeled bilingual. And also be able to insult people in another language.

Thanks to them I never really felt alone growing up. Thanks to them I could escape the cracks that were growing in my parent’s marriage and the knowledge that I was the cause.

My shoes made a crunching sound on the sidewalk as I made my way towards the town center.

With my hands stuffed in the back pocket of my shorts I took in the surroundings.

Seeing as Ernest was on the far outskirts of the city and almost smack in the middle of the forest, the land on my left was almost exclusively trees.

The glorious mountains that watched over the town stood as strong and brilliant as I remembered, their pinnacles piercing the fluffy white clouds.